


Five times Matt's life was shitty and the one time it wasn't

by smile_it_will_get_better



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Foggy Nelson Is a Good Bro, Human Disaster Matt Murdock, Hurt Matt Murdock, M/M, Matt Murdock Needs a Hug, Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson at Columbia, Stick is an asshole, Suicidal Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-07-14 22:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile_it_will_get_better/pseuds/smile_it_will_get_better
Summary: Just like the title suggestsAlso can be called "Five times Matt's life was super depressing and he was alone, plus the one time he wasn't"Basically just a bunch of super sad one shots because who doesn't love some Matt whump?





	1. Stick

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so some of these are more alone and more just him feeling depressed or worthless but oh well. This was just an excuse for all the angsty little stories involving Matt that I have running through my head. It is written to be Matt/Foggy because I am trash for them, but it can be written as just really good besties if that's not your jam. I also promise that the chapters will get longer and have more of a plot line to it, this is mostly just a starter chapter, I used the scene from the episode Stick so that's where all of the dialogue comes from.

Learning to fight with Stick was like learning how to speak a new language. 

It was the language of airways moving across his skin to symbolize where things were. The language of heart beats speeding up and slowing. The language of smells dancing across his nose. It was the language of pain. The language of punches and kicks raining down onto his skin. The languages of anger and disappointment mixed into each other. 

Despite all the pain and suffering Stick caused him, Matt learned to trust him. To see him as a mentor, almost as a friend. Because yes, Stick did hurt him. But he cared, he was doing this for Matt’s own good. To train him for whatever war was coming. 

So Matt listened and never complained. He learned how to keep up appearances and how to fool people into thinking he was some sort of innocent blind kid. He was placed into a hostage situation once. Stick took him to a store he knew was about to be robbed and left Matt there. It was the most terrifying day of Matt’s life as he had to pretend to be a sobbing blind kid who didn’t know what was going on. The training session ended with Matt taking both men out before they could shoot him. Stick shot the attackers and the only other witness in the room as Matt tried to hide his tears. The gunshot that silenced the young woman’s begging would forever echo in his ears. 

That night was the first time he had ever heard someone die because of him, not counting his father of course. Stick made sure that Matt knew that his father’s death was his fault. That if Matt wasn’t so weak he could have saved him. So Matt trained hard enough so that he would never make that mistake again. So that no one else would die because of him. No one would suffer like his father did, like that young woman did. 

Matt couldn’t count on his fingers how many horrible lessons he had to endure. But they all served a point. Stick shoving a needle into his heart to stop it beating so Matt knew what it felt like to die taught him how to be aware of his limits. How far he could go until his body stopped working. Knowing that didn’t stop the nightmares. 

Stick taught him how to be aware of things being shot at him. The difference between and arrow and a bullet. Arrows were easy to dodge. The twang of the string releasing was loud and the air shifting to move out of the arrow’s way gave him around five seconds to decide where to jump. It only took him a day and two arrows hitting him before he was able to accurately guess not only where the arrow was coming from but the exact location of the arrow as it flew.

Bullets were harder to learn. They were smaller, faster, and harder to know where it came from. The sound of the bullet being released would echo around the room making it almost impossible to tell where it was coming from. He had less than a second to determine where the bullet was and where he could go. He often failed. It took two days and ten bullet wounds before he managed to dodge them consistently. All of the wounds scarred from where Stick dug the bullets out and forced Matt to stitch them up. 

All this pain and suffering was worth it though. Or at least that’s what he told himself. He was good at following orders, he would be able to protect himself and Stick if necessary. But that wasn’t the true reward. The true reward was when Stick slightly smiled and told him he was getting better. When Stick didn’t yell and instead just helped him correct whatever was wrong. There was no praise, no relief from the pain, but the small things that conveyed pride, the small almost there smile. It was like ambrosia and it made Matt work ten times harder. 

He was getting better. He was almost as good as Stick now. They were fighting, and Matt could sense every punch the other man threw, every kick and jab made towards him. He caught the sticks that he threw at him and went to offense, the two of them weaving around each other in perfect honour. Stick took his weapons away when they finished, both panting from exhaustion. 

“Fighting is just the start.” Stick says as he walks away. And Matt stands up, perfectly still, awaiting the next order. The next move for him to make. “You have to control your feelings. Your deep-down feelings.”

Matt hear the faint rustling of skin against fabric and knew that Stick was at his bag, digging through it. Matt brought his focus back to Sticks voice, listening hard to the words the older man spoke. 

“How?” He asked, because he had never been good at controlling his feelings. The anger, the guilt, the fear. HE wanted to get rid of them. 

“Mediate.” Stick replied. 

“You mean that thing where you pretend not to sleep?” Matt shot back, smiling slightly. His heart fluttered as Stick chuckled, pride overriding the soreness of his body. 

“Yeah, yeah that one.” Stick said, and Matt could tell he was smiling. Stick started to turn around, and Matt stayed still, not moving a muscle. 

“Open yourself up to it, learn it.” Stick was saying, and Matt filed it away for another time. Meditating always sounded stupid to him, but if Stick said it would help it would help. “Makes you way stronger, more focused. Even heals your wounds faster.”

Matt was intrigued now, healing faster would help him a lot, to be able to ignore the pain was something eh was getting better at, but healing it would work even better. “You can do that?” He asked, almost disbelieving his mentor. 

“How do you think I’m still alive kid?” Stick asked, and Matt had to resist the urge to smile.

“I’ll learn how. Just like you.” He said instead, knowing he wasn’t allowed to smile until Stick said so. 

“Good.” Stick said. “Tomorrow we start with knives. Try not to get stabbed” He said, turning away. Matt felt excitement build up inside him. Finally maybe Stick was going to teach him how to be on the offense with weapons other than the sticks. He knew how to avoid knives already, learning how to use them would help. Although he was sure he was going to get stabbed a few times, no matter what Stick said. 

Matt felt a small surge of confidence, taking a deep breath and reaching into his pocket. He had waited to do this for a long time, building up the confidence and trust required. “Stick?” He asked, his confidence growing when Stick gave him permission to speak. 

“I have something for you.” He said, pulling the bracelet out of his waistband and moving it towards Sticks hands. Sticks fingers clasped around it, but otherwise he showed no reaction. Matt wished he could see his face. “It’s a bracelet.” He said stupidly, feeling the need to explain himself. “From the wrapper on the ice cream you got me when we first met.”

He had spend days making it, practicing with paper with a friendly nurse until he was confident enough to weave it. He listened closely, hearing the way Stick’s heart beat skipped a beat before pounding louder. Was that good? Did Stick like it?

“You remember?” He asked softly, not allowing any of the fear to enter his voice. This was fine, Stick hadn’t said anything yet, maybe this was a good idea. 

“I do.” Stick replied, and Matt almost smiled in relief. He waited for Stick reaction. He heard the shuffling as Stick placed it into the palm of his hand and lifted it up, before the sound of crumpling paper filled his ears and he recoiled like he was slapped. Stick had crushed it, crumpled it into a ball. He didn’t like it. Was he going to hit him? Yell at him? 

“Your training is over.” Stick said calmly, like he hadn’t just shattered Matt’s life into two. Matt opened his mouth before closing it. Standing still because that’s what he needed to do. He couldn’t risk angering Stick further; the man wouldn’t really leave right? This was just another threat. “There is nothing I can do for you anymore.” 

Matt didn’t follow Sticks footsteps as they walked away, he bit down on his tongue, wishing for himself not to cry. Was he really leaving? Oh god he was. 

“What?” Matt said, ignoring all his training. He needed to know, needed a reason. “Why?” He asked. His breath coming out slightly faster. Another person was leaving him, leaving because he messed up again. 

Stick just sighed, stopping on the stairs. “I expected too much of you.” 

Matt’s heart shattered again. So loudly he thought Stick would be able to hear it. Then Stick continued walking, up and out of the door. Matt listened as his footsteps faded into the distance, tracking them until his thoughts wouldn’t allow him. He swallowed, Sticks voice echoing in his ears. 

“I expected too much of you” The voice sounded cruel, striking Matt as he stood there. He felt tears prickle at his eye lids and forced them down, swallowing the lump in his throat. The room seemed too empty without Stick there, like his absence sucked all the air from the room. But Matt would not let himself cry. He wasn’t allowed to cry. “Crying is a weakness. You have to ignore those feeling. Or else your weak, a pussy. Do you want to be weak Matt?” Sticks Voice echoed around the room again, and Matt forced himself to ignore it. “You are not allowed to cry.” 

Matt walked over and picked up his cane, shoving his glasses over his eyes. Stick had left him. He wasn’t coming back. This was the end. Matt had fucked up once again. 

He walked up the stairs and into the open, heading to where he knew Saint Agnes was. 

Stick always told him that getting attached was a weakness, a liability. It would make him weak, make him a target. Matt had understood that. He had no friends, he ignored all the kids at school just like they all ignored him. He was friendly towards the nuns that brought him food but he never forged any real friendships with them. He was isolated, all he had was Stick. He spent so much time making sure that he wouldn’t get attached to anyone that he managed to get attached to Stick. And that blew up in his face. Horribly. 

Matt found his way to the orphanage and ignore the nurse that lead him back to his room, she asked if he was okay, if he was hurt, but he didn’t want to talk. He sat on his bed and stared at the walls, closing his eyes and trying to meditate like he had seen Stick do. 

It was the last thing Stick wanted him to do. He was going to master meditation even if it was the last thing he would do. 

Now that he was alone he had all of the time in the world to practice.


	2. Middle School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HATE THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH. This took me forever to write, and I hate everything about it. It's rushed, undeveloped, and the timeline is all out of wack. But I wrote it and I feel bad that it took so long so I'm forcing you to suffer with me.
> 
> So sorry, but there should be a much better chapter coming out soon now that i got this thing out of the way.

School was hard. 

Not because of the classes, the work part was easy. He excelled at math and social, had little trouble in science, and as soon as he got his braille books he aced English. His teachers all admired his brilliance despite his disability, and praised the fact that he was able to work as well as he could. 

No, the thing that made school so hard was the constant feeling of loneliness that filled him.

The loneliness that was highlighted when no one wanted to be his partner, when no one wanted to pair up with him during gym, when the kids subtly moved seats in the lunch room like he couldn’t hear them walking away. 

People always said how high school was cruel, but they never said how lonely it was. 

He understood why no one wanted to be friends with him, he really did. He was an outsider; the orphanage couldn’t afford to send him to school in Hell’s kitchen so they sent him into a neighboring town. He knew no one there, and no one wanted to befriend the blind kid with trust issues. 

He sat at a random lunch table that he could tell was mostly unoccupied, the three other kids sitting there quickly snuck away when they saw him coming. It didn’t bother him that much anymore, he tended to not use the cafeteria much, too loud for him, but the snow outside was getting bad and he would rather deal with a bunch of dicks than a cold. 

He reached inside his lunch bag and pulled out his sandwich and an apple, he worked at the local grocer for some extra money, hauling boxes around and helping customers when he could. It wasn’t the best job, but it gave him enough money to buy himself enough food for lunches, the discounts didn’t hurt either. 

The older he got, the less dependant on the orphanage he was. Sure, they provided him with a home and occasionally a breakfast, but that was it these days. He was one of the older kids, soon to be released into the world at 18. 

He was still isolated there, and honestly he felt more welcomed at the school where people had to at least acknowledge that he was alive. 

He let himself zone out as he ate his food, the taste of the peanut butter and jam mixing together in his mouth. He could hear the girls at the table next to his gossiping about guys, the nerds beside him talking about their upcoming test, and the people behind him talking about the recent football game. 4

He could hear the splatter of food getting tossed onto some student’s plate, and taste the molecules of everyone’s lunch. He could feel people constantly moving around him, eating and joking around. It would be easily to get lost in all the stimulations, all the sounds and smells and tastes, but he forced himself back into his own body. He heard someone sit across from him, and he looked up, his head cocking to the side before he could stop it. 

The scent was female, the faint smell of perfume wafting from her. He could hear her hair shifting on her shoulder and she cleared her throat. 

“Um, hi, My names Kiana.” She says softly, and he can sense the way her lips turned up into a smile. 

“Hello, I’m Matt. I don’t believe we’ve met before.” He replied, trying his best to sound polite. People were more likely to like you if you treated them with kindness. He smiled at her, he was told he had a good smile. He remembered having a good smile. One that would make older ladies pinch his cheeks and give him candy. 

“Um, yeah, I’m in your debate class. I’ve seen you debate and I just wanted to say that your really good at it.” She said, moving a hand to her ear, probably tucking some hair behind it. Her heart was pounding, she was nervous about something. He wasn’t sure what it was. 

“Oh! Thank you.” He said, trying to place her voice. “You were the one that brought up the topic on space exploration right? It was a good argument, you had some good points.”

He vaguely remembered that argument, he was never really interested in space, its not like he would ever get to go up and see it. 

“Thanks, I’m interested about it. I’m trying to go into engineering, become an astronaut, or at least work with one.” She said, her voice becoming less and less worried as the time went on. It felt, good to say the least. Talking to someone without it being required. With the other person seemingly wanting to talk to you.

“That’s really cool. I’m thinking of becoming a lawyer, defense, help out the wrongly accused and all that.” He said, because that was what he wanted to do. He heard the crime that went on in the city, enough sirens to drive him insane at night. If he could help some people, make sure that innocent people weren’t suffering, then he would. 

“Oh! Cool, you’d make a good one. You have a way with people. They listen to you. It’s like a weird talking gift.” Kiana said with a laugh, and Matt wished it could have been more of use. People would listen in the courtroom, in the debate room, but nowhere else apparently. 

“It’s more of a talent than a gift. I’m good at persuading people and others are good at football, or dancing. It’s something to be learned.” He told her with a smile, she fell silent for a moment. 

“I guess you could say that.” She said softly, her voice almost lost over the sea of sounds. The ringing of the bell stopped Matt from replying. 

“Well, it was nice talking to you Matt, talk to you later?” She asked, and she sounded almost scared, like he might refuse or something. 

“Yup, I’ll see you later.” He said with a grin before turning away. He could hear her laughter as he walked away, and no sound had ever sounded better to his ears. 

The next day the snow did not let up, he tried walking the streets the night before, but the snow muffled everything, so he decided once again to sit in the cafeteria, the same table as before. 

To his surprise, someone was already sitting there. To his even greater surprise, that person didn’t move away. 

“Hey Matt! Hope you don’t mind if I sit with you again?” Kiana’s voice drifted over the crowd, and Matt smiled in response. 

“Great, we have debate class last period, so I was just wondering if you wanted to come catch a movie with me after? There’s a new one that I think we would enjoy, it doesn’t have closed captions but I can narrate what’s happening. Unless you don’t like movies because of, well you know.” Kiana rambled on for a few seconds before fading into silence, fidgeting her hands. 

Matt smiled softly at her. “I would love to go to a movie with you.” He heard her sigh, and confusion filled his head. Why was she so excited to hang out with him? This was a girl he had neve talked to before, suddenly wanting to see a movie with him? And a movie out of all things, he hadn’t see one in forever. Stopped going once he lost his eye sight. This would be the first one since the accident. 

“Great, um, I have to go finish some work for my teacher, but I’ll see you later today?” She was standing up, gathering her bag and getting ready to go. Matt would never admit that he was sad to see her leave. 

“Sure. I’ll see you then.” She said, before hurrying out. He tracked her motions through the room, listening to her footsteps disappear. 

There was a warmth inside his chest, a feeling that he wasn’t able to shake for the rest of the day. It reminded him of when he and his dad would run around the apartment when he was younger, playing games and laughing. It felt like warmth, it felt like 

Maybe having a friend wouldn’t be as bad as Stick said it would. 

 

“And then, the milk came out her nose and she ran off never to be seen again.” Her laughter was contagious, the story more gross than anything. Matt found himself laughing with her, a smile on his face. Kiana was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, her chest heaving up and down as she chuckled.

“That’s disgusting.” He said over her laughs, turning with her as she guided him around a corner. They didn’t really have a destination in mind, they were just wandering around town again, talking and joking like people do. Like friends do. 

It was odd sometimes, having a friend. But him and Kiana had been spending a lot of time together outside of school, either going out for dinner or just wandering. IT had been almost two months since they met, and Matt had to say that he was enjoying the time they spent together. He had a friend, someone he could trust. 

“Finals are coming up huh.” She said carefully, the humor and lightness from before gone. He could tell something had changed, the air around them seemed charged with something. She was tense, too tense. 

“Yeah, you worried?” His mind was running over every possible reason to why her heartrate would suddenly be stumbling in the way that hers was. 

“No, I know what I’m doing.” It was a lie. An effortless good lie, but still a lie. “What about you Murdock?”

Matt stored his swirling thoughts for a later moment, packing them away until they were out of his mind. He didn’t want to ruin the fun. 

“I think I got this. I’ve been studying like crazy. He replied, and it was true. The other kids at the orphanage had things to do, friends to make and to hang out with. But Matt had stayed inside his room for a large portion of his time there, he had no one except Kiana. 

Sometimes it scared him how dependant he was becoming on her. He sat with her at lunch, walked to and from school with her, partnered up with her in debate class. His life was dull and lifeless until she was there, and then it suddenly had life. He wasn’t in love with her, not in a romantic way, be he did love her. 

And that scared him. 

He loved his dad, and his dad left. He even loved Stick, in his own weird way, and Stick left him too. Matt didn’t want Kiana to leave. He didn’t know if he should distance himself or keep her closer, whether to push her away or to never let her leave his sights. 

But when he was with her, nothing seemed forced. He could be himself, say stupid jokes, talk about current issues, not put on his usual mask that he always wore. Everything was natural around her. 

He didn’t want to mess it up. 

 

He had spent weeks debating with himself, going over the idea in his head before throwing it away. He would then pick it up again and spend days on ends worrying about it before tossing it again. It was a viscous cycle that kept him occupied for some time. 

He wanted to tell Kiana about Stick. About his training when he was younger. He wanted to tell her about the fact that he knew almost everything going on around him, even if he lacked his sight. He wanted to share that with her, let her know that side of him. 

But at the same time he was afraid. Afraid of being labelled as a freak, afraid of his secret coming into the light, afraid of all that fear and anger that has been festering inside him for ages. 

It never ended. Back and forth like a bad badminton game, when the birdie would not hit the ground but it was the same moves over and over again. 

He was getting bored of the game.

 

It was a week before graduation, and everyone was buzzing with excitement. Finals were almost over and everyone was pretty much ready for the summer. Girls were talking about summer plans and spa days, guys were talking about colleges they were going to and camping trips out in the country. No one talked to Matt about anything. 

Kiana came into lunch hurried and a mess. He could tell her hair was all over the place and her normally perfectly put together uniform was uneven and there was something that smelled like a ketchup stain on the sleeve. She sat down on the table with an exaggerated sigh, her head thunking against the surface. 

“Rough day?” Matt asked casually, continuing to slowly eat his food. Kiana let out a huff, the air blowing across the table at him. She lifted her head, the sound of her hair shifting as she flipped it over her shoulder. 

“I just finished studying for my math test. It took forever.” She said through a yawn. “Didn’t even get to sleep last night.”

Matt hummed with sympathy. He was no stranger to sleep deprivation, he was used to nights simply spent sitting in bed, reading braille or simply observing the world around him the best he could. He used sleep like a tool, only necessary when required. 

“You probably don’t even have to study.” Kiana said, poking him in the arm. “Mr. Murdock, the highest grade of the year, the smartest kid to ever grace these halls.” She said dramatically, waving her arms half-heartedly. Matt grinned. 

“Screw engineering, you should become an actor.” He replied, putting the rest of his sandwich back into the bag, he would save it for tomorrow. 

Kiana snorted, finally opening her lunch and starting to eat. The conversation after that was casual, talking about the summer and jobs. The closer the bell came to ringing, the more nervous Kiana seemed to get. She was shifting in her seat, constantly twirling her hair on her finger and tapping her foot. Matt decided not to rush her, not sure about what was upsetting her. 

“So, there’s this party the day before graduation, just a celebration. And I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?” Kiana suddenly blurted out, surprising Matt. “I know parties aren’t your thing but it’s graduation and you deserve to have a fun time.”

She cut herself off, her heart pounding with what sounded like nerves. Matt thought it over, he really did hate parties. Too many noises and people in one place for his liking, but like Kiana said, it was graduation. And he didn’t want to make her worry about him the entire time. 

“I guess I could go, might not be that much fun to hang around though.” Matt said with a smile, grinning when Kiana launched herself at him with a squeal and a barrage of ‘thank you’. 

He would try his best, that was all she was asking. 

_____________________

Matt decided on three things when he showed up at the party that night. One was that parties sucked. 

The music was horrible, and that was a compliment. The bass was loud enough to shake the house, completely messing up his sense of hearing. Along with that the multiple voices overlapping each other made his head ache and heart pump. He stood in the corner of the house, sipping some water because it was possibly the only drink that wasn’t spiked in the entire house. 

The second thing was that friendship meant nothing at a party. Kiana told him she would try to stay close, but she got swept away almost moments after they entered. In a party it was a free for all, people all competing for attention, for space, for the last drink. All such needless necessaries, but they craved them all. Matt was lucky to have that desire beat out of him a long time ago. 

The third was that he really wanted to leave. Like immediately. 

No one talked to him, but he could hear whispers about the weird blind kid in the corner if he listened hard enough. People stayed away from him like he had the plague, but still every sound was overpowering, pounding into his head making it hard to contain the flinch he felt every time someone yelled. 

He searched through the house, picking apart every voice until he heard Kiana’s. She was laughing about something, just a couple rooms away. He should tell her he was leaving first, just so she didn’t freak out when he disappeared. 

He slowly made his way through the room, happy that people normally seemed to move out of his way. If he ignored the embarrassed laughs and snide comments everything would be fine. A few people bumped into him, making him flinch. Everything was just a little too loud, a little too much. He couldn’t wait to leave, to start the summer and just do his own thing. He would spent his summer reading, learning, and maybe even hanging out with Kiana, if she wasn’t too busy.

Summer sounded great, but now all eh had to do was escape the hell that was this party. 

He maneuvered through the last few rooms, focusing on Kiana’s voice, and not the sound of his pounding heartbeat, his harsh breathing, the feeling of bodies pressing in on him, his world of red one big smear. 

“Yeah, school was fun while it lasted.” Kiana was saying, sounding off, her voice higher than normal. She was trying to impress someone, he couldn’t tell who. 

“We never saw you this year though! You were always disappearing at lunch and after school, hanging out with that weird kid.” Another girl was saying, and Matt stopped outside the door, suddenly much to afraid to enter. He could hear people moving around him, grumbling about how he shouldn’t stand in the middle of the room. 

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Kiana said softly, and Matt hoped she would stop, prayed that she would stop. “But do you know how much brownie points I got out of that? Teachers love the fact that I befriended a friendless blind kid. Probably got five different essay extensions because I told them I was helping him get around.”

Kiana’s following laugh was mocking, making Matt’s skin feel ten times tighter. Was that why she befriended him? For some fucking brownie points. 

“Smart, I saw him before hand, moping around like a lost little puppy. Probably fell in love with you or something with the way he follows you around.” Another girl chimed in, and Matt wanted to run in there. To deny it. He was never in love with Kiana, she was his friend. Just a friend. Kiana knew that, she had to. He didn’t know why it was so important but it was, it was important for her to know he liked her as a friend because she was amazing and nice. Not because he wanted to get in her pants or a relationship. 

“It’s sad isn’t it? Made trying to be his friend so much harder. Kept having to turn him down, made faking friends so much harder.”

He was leaving, didn’t even care that he wasn’t using his cane, just walking through the people. The kids were probably confused, wondering why the blind kid was leaving so quick, but eh didn’t care. He wanted out, away from this house, away form this town, away from the one person he ever considered a friend. 

He was outside suddenly, and he quickly walked down the street, pulling out his cane and started swinging it. Stick’s voice was in his ear, telling him to appear normal, to control these stupid things called hearing and to keep moving. Before Matt knew it he was back at the orphanage and walking towards the room. He ignored the names the kids always called him, stepping into the room and sitting quietly on his bed. 

He wasn’t sure what to do next. 

Was everything a lie? Every ounce of happiness that he had felt when around Kiana, every laugh, every story, every moment, fake? He tried so hard to get a friend and keep it, and after years of being forced into isolation and never making a connect with anyone after Stick he had finally got one. But it was fake. Everything was fake. He was a stupid fucking pity friend who was too oblivious to see what was going on. He should have listened to Stick, listened when the man said no one would ever respect someone like him. A blind little kid just looking for attention. Matt needed to make his own place in this world because no one was going to give him any leftover happiness. 

But screw happiness apparently. It was overrated. Friendship was overrated.

Or at least that's what he told himself. 

He stormed over to the closet, pulling out a small duffel bag and some clothes. He already had a letter, a fair amount of money, and a plan. 

The next day he went to graduation, got his diploma, and ignored the voice yelling after him as he walked away. 

She gave up and the next day he was gone, out to the city to chase the dreams and forget everything about the past year. Got a new number and told himself it was because he was going onto a new life. 

But he was lying to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for the horrible content, please forgive me:')

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and please leave some comments below if there's anything you want me to write about!


End file.
